


In a Rainstorm

by queenaveline



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: F/M, One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-01
Updated: 2015-06-01
Packaged: 2018-04-02 09:53:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,401
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4055626
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/queenaveline/pseuds/queenaveline
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Valerie Trevelyan has always taken solace in a storm.</p>
            </blockquote>





	In a Rainstorm

**Author's Note:**

> Just a short little one-shot of my Trevelyan! Please enjoy, and comment if the mood strikes you!

 

The first time she truly felt the rain, she was only a child.

Valerie must have only been five or so, before she left home, one of those precious few memories she had from that time. For the longest time, it had been the first memory she could recall.

It was the middle of summer, hot and humid, the clouds looming over the morning and into the afternoon. The days before had been blistering, sticky and thick feeling, a fog that pulled everyone down with it. And when the first drops started to fall, and the heat broke, her siblings ran outside, Valerie tottering after them; she followed whatever excitement there was.

The drops were fat and cool, wetting the dusty ground, the air suddenly so much easier to breathe. Slow at first, tentative, but then harder and harder and faster, until the ground was wet and so was she.

And her siblings laughed and laughed, and ran in it, dark hair curling, eyelashes dripping. They splashed in the newly forming puddles, clothes soaked through and cheeks wet, and stared up at the sky, challenging the heavens to do their worst. And Valerie, she was only a child, but her sister showed her the good puddles to splash, and how to tilt her head up and taste the sweetened water on her tongue. The water ran in rivets down her neck, under her shirt, through her hair and she squirmed with the cool of it.  Her red hair knotted and green eyes shown and just as she was beginning to enjoy it…

Their nanny was out in the yard like an altogether different kind of storm, their mother stern faced behind her. The children were called in, drenched clothes and hair plopping water onto the nice dry stone. Of course, they were all given a thorough chastising, reminded they were all making a mess, and they’d be lucky if someone didn’t catch a cold, and they ought to know better than to be playing in the rain like half-wits, they were _noble._

And when she and her siblings had halfheartedly apologized, they were whisked upstairs to clean up.

The rain stopped. The rest of the summer was even dryer, even hotter. There were no rainstorms.

~

In the Circle, there was no way to play in the rain. Valerie was locked up, cooped inside the tower, a princess from the stories with a lot more guards and a lot less princes to her rescue.  She never thought about it that way then, as she was perfectly content to sit inside as the world went on. She had her own world there, one of old books and knowledge and always learning something new.

Still, when the storms came, and the other children all rushed under a blanket together, whispering and yelping at every clap of thunder, Valerie did not join in. As the others giggled and told stories of the thunder and lightning gods, the young mage would slip away, and climb up, up, up her tower.

At the top there was a window, hardly ever visited, since no one ever felt like making the climb to get there. By the time she had reached it she would be out of breath, even as a child, but would sit on the thick stone window sill, and watch from her tower as the clouds rolled over the hill, closer and closer.

The thunder would hit, far away and light at first, then nearer, booming and shaking the ground with its mighty voice. And after that, would be the lighting, sometimes high up in the sky, only barely visible, and sometimes more dangerous, crackling down to the ground, illuminating the entire valley with its strange blue-purple light.

Downstairs, the others would be squealing in fear and delight, but alone, Valerie could look down at her own hands, and know she was a lighting strike too.

And she would sit as a child and let the soft storms lull her to sleep.

And she would sit as a teenager, and let the violent tempests reflect her frustrations.

And she would sit as a young woman, and wonder what those drops might feel like on her skin, how the lightning might illuminate the world outside her Circle, how the thunder might sound without walls in the way.

~

On the morning of her twenty-fifth birthday, Valerie could sense the oncoming storm even as the morning dawned blue. She went about her day, did her work, assisted with a class, read a tome heavier than she was… And as the afternoon began to turn to evening and the sky’s blue went to gray, then nearly black, Valerie fidgeted in anticipation.

It was after dinner when the thunder finally rolled in, the rain not long after that. The other enchanters complained and searched for the buckets, as Valeriesl off to make the climb to her window, her own private birthday celebration at hand.

Cutting through the kitchens, she paused, noticing a door cracked open, unattended by any templar. Valerie paused, knowing very well that she shouldn’t, but she could hear the plopping of rain on dirt, and the cool breeze blowing in through the door pulled her towards it. She stepped forward, closer and closer, until she stood at the threshold, and she began to pull the door out when—

“And what do you think you’re doing?” A booming voice behind her, one of the templars. Neal—his name was, young and dark-haired, quieter than most, but looked upon favorably by Valerie’s fellows. She had heard he had overlooked quite a few illicit activities in the circle, all in the mages favor.

“I—uh, didn’t mean to…I didn’t want…the rain.” Valerie attempted to explain, her body freezing up, her mind panicked. The templar stepped closer.

“The rain?”

“I…yes. The rain.” Valerie looked down at her feet, praying he would let her off easily with all her might.

“What about it?” He prompted her, stepping ever closer still. Valerie glanced up, and saw not anger or displeasure in his expression, but a brand of curiosity she knew well.

“Well, ser…I beg of you. Today is my twenty-fifth birthday, and all I want, all I could ever wish for…is to just be outside for only a moment in the rain.” Valerie was not a begging woman, not one to ask for anything unless absolutely necessary…But the cool wind that ruffled her hair and spread goosebumps over her arms called to her in a way she could never explain.

“To just….stand there?”

“Just to stand there.” Neal weighed his options visibly, before stepping forward to open the door, warning Valerie not to try anything. The downpour had grown heavy, and the evening dark. The rain tinkled against his armor, and he shuddered in the cold.

Valerie hesitated in the open threshold, feeling the wind blow into her, her lips twitching into a smile as a burst of thunder shook the ground. She took a breath in, then stepped outside, going a few steps before pausing in the dirt that was quickly becoming mud.

A bolt of lightning followed, striking down somewhere miles away, lighting up the dark with its power. The rain grew heavier. It wet Valerie’s robes, sticking them to her body, it made the mud underneath her slippers seep up through her toes, it slid down her neck and onto her back, it curled through her long hair and slowly wet it. The droplets gathered on her eyelashes, they dropped off her nose and onto her lips, and Valerie remembered to tilt her head back to drink it.

The storm grew closer, the lighting filling the air with its light and the thunder roaring its response, the rain whipping down, the wind picking up. Valerie held up her hands at her sides, watching as the water slipped through her fingers, laughing as she realized she was completely drenched and turning her eyes up at the sky to demand more, more, _more_.

Neal watched from the side, annoyed at the rain’s inconvenience, and baffled by the mage’s joy.

Valerie stood and smiled and moved as the storm came down around her.

She had always watched from a window, and now for the first time in twenty years, she could feel it on her skin.

~

The night the circle fell Valerie was forced to make a choice: stay with the loyal mages, stay in the circle, fight for the renewal of the status quo, or join the rebels, escape the circle, carve out a new future for mages.

It was a decision Valerie had never anticipated making, and therefore as both groups called to her, begged for her to join them, she stood in the middle, unsure what to do.

As she waffled there in the center, near to making her choice, the crowd quieted, and a single roll of thunder overpowered them all, the foundation of the tower shaking, and the vibrations booming through Valerie’s chest. She looked back at the circle mages. She nodded. She turned towards the rebels, and stepped out into the rain.

~

Valerie knew that the rebels would be incredibly displeased at the loss of three of their best mages. She knew that very well. 

Winnie and Everett had done their best to convince her that leaving was the best choice, that the isolationists who only wanted to hide away would never accomplish anything, and that the more bloodthirsty mages would only get them killed. No, they needed to leave, to form something new, find some like minded people who could get things _done_. Valerie wasn’t sure sneaking off in the dead of night with the fastest horses they could find was the best way to escape, but she couldn’t deny it was the most dramatic.

And who knew if any like minded people even existed? Did their only strength reside in their numbers, and now they would be susceptible to attack more than ever before?

It was in Valerie’s nature to ask these questions, even as the threesome galloped away from their camp into Maker knows what.

Even with her doubts, she took it as a comfort that clouds were beginning to block out the moon, and while her companions groaned at the first drops of rain, Valerie reveled in them.

~

The night before the Conclave, as the members of the Mage’s Accord sat around a tavern, discussing their strategy once more, the pattering of rain could be heard on the inn’s wooden rooftop.

The night she woke up in Haven, a small storm rolled through, waking her in the middle of the night and drawing her to the window.

Storms were common on the road, and Valerie had to agree with her traveling companions when they groaned at the trouble, at the mess, at the delay that a storm might cause. Deep down in her heart, however, she smiled when those dark clouds rolled in.

On the way back to Skyhold after their visit to the pond, Cullen stopped their horses at an inn, preparing to wait out the oncoming storm, simultaneously worried at the delay that it might cause in his work, but satisfied that he and Valerie might get some more time alone. Valerie could not agree with him more, and sat through the evening with him, eating and drinking and talking around a warm fire happier than she could ever remember being, but always listening for that first sprinkling of rain, that first groan of the sky opening up.

The fire had died, the inn’s patrons had retired and Cullen had begun to lead her up to a room when she finally heard the dull thud of thunder and the splattering of rain overhead. She whisked herself away telling him to wait “just a second” before running across the inn and quietly sneaking out the door, her confused lover following after her.

The rain was cold and Valerie shivered as its first fat drops seeped through her clothes. She smiled though, as the water began to wet her eyelashes, and a faraway flash of lighting was followed by a lazy roll of thunder.

Cullen stood just inside the door behind her, wondering if Valerie had finally lost it and wishing very much that she would just come inside.

“Valerie—what in Andraste’s name are you doing?”

She did not answer, merely beamed at him and beckoned him to join her, and as happy as she seemed, Cullen could not refuse.

He scowled as the first drops made their way down his shirt, and trembled as a cool gust of wind cut through his layers. He stopped next to Valerie, crossing his arms to keep warm, unsure how, precisely, she was enjoying this that much.

The rain came down more and more, and the faraway burst of thunder and lightning drew nearer and nearer.

Valerie squished the mud forming beneath her boots, and couldn’t help but laugh at Cullen, who looked distinctly like a sad wet dog.

“Cullen, please don’t tell me you’ve never gone out in the rain to just enjoy it?”

“And why would I do that?” He asked, wondering how this was the same determined woman leading an organization that was currently shaping the future of Thedas.  If possible, it made him ever fonder of her.

“Why wouldn’t you? Come on, I’ll show you.”

And so Valerie did. She taught him to tip his head back and catch the droplets on his tongue, and remembered a time her sister did the same. She encouraged him to take joy in the feel of the droplets slipping down his back, remembering another Templar watching her do just that. She counted with him the space in-between the lighting and its thunder, and recalled the choice it made for her. She taught him to love the curling of his hair as the rain drenched them both, and remembered teaching friends the same thing. He taught her that kisses in the rain were even sweeter than she could have imagined, and she knew that this storm would be one to remember.

She taught him to take solace in the storm, to love it as she did, though later Cullen realized it was not the storm he was falling in love with.

And he taught her that storms, no matter what they felt like, didn’t have to be weathered alone.


End file.
